Fits like a glove
by Aurora-swan
Summary: After a case far away from home, the car breaks down on the way back to London. But that isn't their biggest problem. Sherlock has been keeping secrets in the backseat and panic spreads like wildfire. Mpreg. Childbirth. Probably a little angst.


**Got a request for another mpreg with a twist so here it is. I never realized how long it turned out, but hopefully you'll enjoy. **

* * *

"Oh hell.." Greg muttered from his seat and John woke up from his rest and saw how the car started to slow down.

"Why are you stopping?" he muttered and rubbed his eye, saw the heavy rain smatter against the windshield and the dark surrounding them in the middle of nowhere. Trees hanging over them like dark tunnel with no end to be seen and the car made noises like a coughing old man

"Engine-light's been blinking for the past hour." Greg mumbled and pulled the break. "Something's up." They car stopped dead by the edge of the road and the DI stared out in the dark, trying to get some clue of how far it was to the closest gas station. "Bugger, I don't know where we are. Is your phone working? I forgot so charge mine back at the motel." John yawned and nodded.

"Yeah." he sighed and reached for his mobile resting between the seats. "Oh fuck. It's dead."

"It can't be dead. You were the one to steal my charger!"  
"Yeah, but it's a sucky phone, alright." John moaned and rubbed a hand over his face before he turned to the backseat. Sherlock was soundly asleep with his head against the window, a big fluffy pillow between him and the cold glass and a big blanket wrapped around him lanky body. His arms was protectively wrapped around his bug bump and his calm breaths heaved his swollen stomach.

"John, d'you know anything about engines?" Greg tried and smothered his grey hair and John scoffed.

"Are you kidding me? I can't even drive."

"Worth a shot." Greg smiled and unbuckled his seatbelt. "Sherlock!?" The detective mumbled tiredly in the backseat and shifted. "Sherlock!?"

"Yes." he groaned and snuggled a little deeper into the pillow.

"Is your phone working?" The man took a huge breath, and cracked an eye open to see his husband and friend staring at him from the front of the dark car, headlights blinking in the heavy rain and smoke rising despite the cold water rushing over them.

"Why have we stopped?" he asked and John smiled when he saw the flat curls plastered to the side of his cheek.

"Because Greg isn't an engineer." John smirked tiredly and unbuckled himself to crawl back beside him. "You've got your phone or not?" The detective yawned loudly and snuggled into the pillow again.

"Left pocket." he mumbled and John groaned when he hand to look for it himself. It was warm under the blanket, extremely warm and the doctor felt a knot being tied in his stomach.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly and held the phone in one hand while placing the other upon Sherlock's forehead. Fire burnt inside his head and his face was pale and clammy, he looked exhausted to the bones and sweat was soaking his clothes.

"Of course." he muttered and squirmed away from John's hand. "Just.. get us home."

"Sherlock, you're burning up!" John exclaimed and unfolded the big blanket around him. "You're feverish, for god's sake. C'mon, let's get that coat off you." He started pulling the big clothing and Sherlock squirmed out of his grip, pushing him back by the shoulder and took a deep breath.

"John. It's alright. I've just been fighting a Braxton hick for the moment." The doctor's eyes grew and he pierced Sherlock with icy blue eyes.

"Are you sure it was a hick? Nothing else?" he asked and Sherlock groaned irritably and waved his hand before his eyes.

"Yes, yes. Now, call a cab or something so we can be out of here."

"What's a Brixton Hick?" Greg asked from the front seat and turned down the heat.

"Braxton." John corrected and dialled the number. "Practice contractions. He's been having them for the last couple of weeks. Oh fu..." He lowered the phone from his ear and looked at the blinking screen. "Oh no.."

"What now?" Sherlock groaned and tried to fluff up his pillow.

"No sig.." His words faded by the loud noise of thunder and John and Greg jumped in their seats and saw how the forest lit up by the strong lightning.

"Well, I've never been this glad to be trapped in a car." Greg muttered as he stared out in the dark and John laughed.

"Yeah, if we don't get washed away by the rain."

"John." Sherlock mumbled and changed position, arms still wrapped around his stomach as he folded in on himself. "We need to find a signal." Pain was written all over the detective's face and John felt his blood go cold by the sight. Greg turned in his seat and the smile faded from his face.

"Sherlock?"

"They're not Braxton hicks." Sherlock moaned and took a deep breath to ease the pain clutching his insides.

"Oh dear god, Sherlock! How long have you been in labour?" John shrieked and launched out for his hand. The detective let out a short whimper and grasped his hand hard.

"I don't..." he groaned and rubbed his side as he straightened. "When did we leave the motel?" John took a deep breath and looked at his clock.

"Um.. three, three and a half hour ago. I think." Sherlock grimaced as the contraction hit its peak and his hand tightened painfully around John's and the doctor reached out to caress his tensed back. "Okay, deep breaths. C'mon Sherlock, breath through it."

"It's been going on since we left." he groaned and disappeared beneath his dark curls. "I's been getting worser for the last thirty minutes. I'm surprised Greg hasn't noticed how I've tossed and turned these last couple of minutes." Greg, whose back was painfully twisted as he watched them, frowned.

"You have?" he stammered.

The iron grip around his hips and waist suddenly eased and he relaxed himself with a deep breath. Eyes was kept closed as he leaned back to the seat to catch his breath and John started to realise that it didn't matter if he'd been labouring for five hours or ten minutes, this baby was coming and there was noway to stop it. They needed to get a signal on that phone.  
"How many minutes between?" he asked calmly and placed a hand on the big bump and rubbed it slightly, relaxing those tensed muscles that was gonna work and spasm until this was over but Sherlock hissed and pushed his hand away.

"Don't.." he moaned. "Don't. It's putting to much pressure on my back." His head fell back on the pillow and John swallowed nervously. Sherlock was tired. They'd spent way to many hours haunting that criminal down. Pregnant or not, Sherlock wouldn't let his bump be in the way for work. But right now he'd spent up all the energy he needed to deliver on a stupid case.

"Okay, Sherlock, we gonna get you through this, alright. We're gonna get a signal on that phone and we'll be at the hospital in no time." He turned to Greg who was frozen in his seat, just staring at the two parents-to-be and fright written all over his face.  
"John." he quaked and cleared his throat. "Give me the phone. I'll run out and look about until we've got a bar. You take care of Sherlock, okay? It's the least I can do." John just nodded, passed over the phone just as another lightning struck.

"You be careful out there, okay." he said as Greg opened the door and the heavy rain splattered over his coat. "Don't get struck." Greg grinned and made a run for it with the coat over his head and John reached for the light switch on the board when a weak voice came from his left.

"John?" Sherlock murmured and his eyes fluttered open. The doctor hurried back just to see his husband tense up. "John." Contractions were close to each other. Very close.  
"I'm here." he whispered and pulled him into his chest. "Two minutes. Okay, we're in a hurry." Sherlock answered him with a moan and held on tight to his jacket.

"I thought we were gonna make it home." he trembled and bundled up his face. "Oh god it hurts." A painful groan slipped over his lips and John rubbed his aching back. Sherlock pressed himself a little closer and disappeared into his touch like a cat looking for warmth and John pulled his legs up in his lap, feelings his bump press to his stomach. He could feel the tension of the muscles as the contraction peaked and Sherlock opened his mouth in a voiceless cry.

"You need to breath, Sherlock. C'mon." Sherlock drew a huge breath and let it out with a loud, long moan.

"Oh god, my back!" he shrieked and pulled away to stretch his aching spine, hand pressed to his side and the other one clutched to John's shoulder while he panted slowly. "John, my back!"

"Let's get some weight off it." John tried and started pulling Sherlock's coat. "On hands and knees, and I'll rub it for you okay. He undressed hi husband until t-shirt and trousers and helped him up on the seat on all fours and he stood hunched in the small space left in the back and pressed his warm hands to the small of his back, sending a calming hiss over Sherlock lips.

"Better?" he asked and heard his husband give him a breathy laugh.

"There is no better in my situation right now, John." he moaned and went down his his elbows, rocking his body back and forth and John could see his back working through the pain. "It really hurts." John kept on rubbing occasionally pressing his lips to his neck and stroke his curls. Thinking hard about what was going on, what was going to happen.

"Sherlock." he murmured close to his ear and felt him shake, panicking about the next pain. "We need to talk about what's happening." Sherlock lifted his head that hanged between arms and let go of the breath he'd been holding. "This baby is coming. Soon. And we need to be prepared for how this is gonna turn out without getting panicked. This is not gonna turn out well if you get stressed." He just nodded and John felt him relaxing a bit. "I'm not gonna lie to you, this is gonna hurt and help might not come so you'll have to keep breathing through this. You need to tell me if you feel any sudden changes and I'm here to help you, Sherlock. I promise you, I'm gonna get you through this and our baby will arrive to this world as a healthy little tosser." Sherlock manage to laugh under his breath when the pain hit him again and he lowered his head, curled up his hands and panted. "Good, love. Just like that. You're doing great." He moaned and louder and louder until he was wailing in pain and John took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"It's been going on for hours!" he wailed and pressed his forehead to the seat. "Oh god it hurts!" He cursed and whimpered, pressed a hand to the top of his bump and trembled as sweat soaked his clothes. John couldn't believe how his husband had been able to hide this long from them both, but then again, Sherlock had always been good at looking past pain. He wished he could say he was surprised.

* * *

Sherlock shouted in pain and smashed his face against the leather seat, panted and keened and John kept rubbing his back and waist, anything to help him through this.

"It doesn't stop." he cried and John took a deep breath to keep himself together, if he got stressed it would only upset poor Sherlock and he needed to be the one keeping everyone calm in this space, because he knew what was about to happen. "John! The pain, there's no break!"

"Okay." he breathed and heard Sherlock shriek in pain. "Love, this is happening. This is the hardest part. You're minutes away from pushing." But Sherlock shook his head, hummed through the contraction and broke his promise about panicking.

"John!" he bawled. "I'm not having him in this car! I'm not!" Tears streamed and John cradled his head to his own, held him close and tugged his curls.

"Sherlock, c'mon. This is happening, we can't stop it."

"I don't want to! Please, not in this car!" Another contraction took him by surprise and he yelled out in pain. "Why is it happening so quick!?" He wailed and arms was shaking under his weight, he was not well enough to have this baby. John needed to help him. He pressed himself close to his back, wound his arms around his side and rocked with him, listened to him whimper and cry out is burning pain. Somehow he'd slipped into medic-mode, keeping himself as calm as possible but it was hard when the patient was a loved one. To help Sherlock, he needed to block the feelings until this was over, it was the only way.

"This baby doesn't seem to care if it's a car, a bed or the bloody beach. He's the one deciding right now and I'm sorry love but this is it. Next phase means pushing, and after that it's over. Please Sherlock. You need to get through this." As the pain eased he let go of his breath with a loud sob, tears welled and he cried in pain and fear for his life and this child.

"I'm scared." he moaned. "Please John. I don't want to do this. I..." He was interrupted by another pain and he whimpered by the force. "Ooohhhuu, John! There's a pressure! Oh fuck!" He pressed to the bottom of his bump like he tried to push the baby back up. "John! Help!"

John needed to work quickly. In the trunk was their bag, two towels to wipe up the mess, a plastic bag for his shoes that he could use for the afterbirth, a jumper to swaddle the baby in and a first aid kit that would be in handy for the cord. They had everything they needed except room. He looked out the window, saw the rain that didn't fall as heavy as before.

"Sherlock." he whispered close to his ear and wiped the sweat of his face with his sleeve. "I'm gonna get some things ready but first we need to take you trousers and pants off."  
"No." the detective whined and shook his head. "I'm not having him in here! Please John, make it stop!" John grasped his shoulders and helped him up on his knees, saw his tired expression and sat down before him, pulled into his chest and held most of his weight in his arms. Sherlock whined and placed his arms around his neck, pressed himself against him as the pains tore through him.

"Sherlock." John whispered and stroke his hair. "Please love, listen to me." Sherlock answered with a sob to the nape of his neck and nails digging into his back. "I'm sorry, but I can't stop this. This is happening and I need you to accept it. It need you to concentrate on the pain and the baby and not on the location. You'll only hurt yourself is you stress about this." A loud moan escaped the detective's lips and he pulled John down with his weight, sobbed and whimpered as his contractions became stronger and put more pressure to his opening.

"I need to push." he whined. "John, I can't... the pressure." It seemed like the man had come to an acceptance at last, the urges to fight started to get more important than the car and he just needed this baby out as soon as possible, he needed this to end.

"You can't push yet." John informed him calmly and massaged his waist. "I'm gonna get you ready first, I need to feel how open you are and then you need to listen carefully. You're not allowed to push until I say so, okay?" His husband took a deep breath, let it out as a big huff and nodded. "I'm here to help you, love. I'm not leaving you now."

They stayed in each others arms for a few second more, the doctor letting his husband cry out some of the fear to his shoulder as he rocked him back and forth as he contracted. Then he unbuttoned his trousers and Sherlock didn't protest, more relieved as his bump could drop a few inches more when the waistband released. John pulled them down to his knees and saw the small patches of blood in his pants, it was close.

"I'm gonna feel you, okay?" he murmured and traced his hand over his hard bump and between his legs, pushed in as many fingers that would fit and the tip of one of them touched the bag filled with water. "You're very close, just a few more minutes and your contractions will change. Long breaks but longer pains. Tell me when you start to feel the difference, alright." Sherlock moaned and nodded. "Now, grab hold of the seat and I'll get your shoes and pants off." Suddenly the door flung open and a soaked Greg tossed himself in with a loud groan.

"An ambulance is on its way." he said and ran his fingers through his wet hair. "They'll be here in thirty minutes or so." That's when he turned and saw the half naked detective. "Oh shit."

"Greg." John called. "We need to make room! And we need the towels and the first aid kit in the back!" But Greg was frozen in his seat, eyes wide as he observed the scene. "Now Greg!"

The DI reached down behind the other front seat and pulled a lever before he tossed himself out again, ran around the car and opened the other door and pulled the seat out. John almost cried in relief as the suddenly had more room in the car and he helped Sherlock to grab on to the seat. The detective hugged the headrest and nails dug into the leather. Stomach pressed against the back on the seat as he tried not to bear down with the forceful contraction.

John kneeled on the floor and helped Sherlock with his pants and when he was naked at last, he helped his spread and he saw the blood dripping down the inside of his thigh.

"You're doing great, love." he said and kissed the small of his back while he rubbed his hips. "It will be over soon."

"I need to push!" he shrieked and tried to rock his body. "It hurts!" Greg tossed himself in through the door of the backseat with the equipment John had ordered and the doctor placed them at the floor beside him.

"I also need one of my jumpers and a plastic bag!"

He started to work behind Sherlock, cleaned his hand on the rubbing alcohol and put on a pair of latex gloves before he placed one of the towels between his husbands shaking legs when the detective uttered a loud groan and curled around his bump with his head smashed against the seat.

"John!" he groaned. "I want to push!"

"I'm gonna feel you again. I think you're there. Just breath through it." He pushed his fingers in and felt how the baby had dropped, he just wished he had something to break the water with. "Okay, try to bare down carefully. Just to see if we can get the sack to break. Things will go quicker once your waters broken." That was all Sherlock needed to hold his breath and push. Pain tore through him, burned and throbbed but he couldn't stop, his body knew exactly what needed to be done and all he could do was comply.

"Oh fuck!" he huffed as the pain released his muscles and he was given the first break he'd had in minutes. He closed his eyes and relaxes against the seat. "John, it's starting to change."

"Good." John smiled and pressed another kiss to his back. "Just keep going when you feel like it." He nodded and savoured the break, rested as much as he could with his head leaned against his arms. Then he felt a hand caress the side of his face, brushing away the sweaty curls and he opened his tired eyes. Greg was standing on his knees beside him, there to help and Sherlock felt safe in their presence. His mind started to get clear now when the pain wasn't as intriguing anymore and he laughed under his breath.

"I can't believe this." he trembled and felt John's fingers widening his opening, he grimaced by the stinging pain. "Who else than my kid?" Greg grinned and let his hand slide down his back and press against his spine. He rubbed his tensing muscles there and Sherlock felt a new contraction sneak up on him. He curled as much as he could around his bump again and pushed.

"Well done, Sherlock." John praised and massaged the inside of his thigh. The contraction peaked and he cried out by the force when something suddenly popped inside him, a gush of fluids escaped between his legs and the soft cushion around the baby was gone. A loud shout fell over his lips as the contraction continued with horrible, searing pain.  
"Oh fuhuuuhuuck!" he sobbed and hardly noticed when Greg embraced him and whispered calming words in his ear.

"There we go!" John cheered and wiped the fluids with the towel. "Good Sherlock! C'mon! Push!"

He did. Every muscle inside his body worked and strained and he shot of adrenaline spread inside him like wild fire, making him fight and his hands flailed over the headrest to get a good grip. Then it was over again. One minute of hard pushing and a thirty seconds break. He was at the last stage of being pregnant, after this he would be a father and that's what was keeping him fighting. He had never been this close to holding his son. A new wave of pain and he bore down as hard as he could.

"Good lad." Greg praised and kissed his temple, Sherlock enjoyed having him here. That man had helped him through more painful stuff than this. "Just a little longer."

John's fingers brushed against the wet hair already growing on his son's head. He was far down in the birth canal by know and Sherlock strained with each pain, John had never seen him so strong, he was truly impressed, but as the minutes past, Sherlock started to get more and more tired. He cached his breath after a long minute of pushing and let out a small whine.

"I'm tired." he trembled and leaned his head to his shaking arms.

"It's almost over." John cheered and pressed another kiss to his back. "Okay? Just a few minutes more. I can see the top of his head as you push." Sherlock's eyes fluttered open with those words and he whimpered in shock.

"You can see him?" he asked just as another contraction started to build and he grunted as he bore down with it. He suddenly reached down between his legs and let his fingers brush over the head that was about to force its way out and he felt his heart jump by the feeling of wet hair. There he was, his little baby, ready to make a painful and burning entrance to the worlds. He gasped and looked down on his stomach that had dropped several inches by now. "Why's it taking so much time?" he slurred and bundled up his face as he gave a short but strong push.

"No, don't stop! Keep going!" John shouted eagerly. "You're almost crowning! Push!" He tried again by way to tired to continue, he lost his breath and new tears fell down his cheeks, he felt like a failure.

"I can't!" he cried and pressed down on his bump.

"You're really close, Sherlock." Greg smiled and cupped his shoulder. "Just a few more pushes." He bore down again and let out an exhausted scream as he felt the child squeeze down another inch. The broad shoulders was pressing down, splitting him impossibly wide and the pain was horrible. He grunted and felt the many hands petting his back and thighs as he cursed. "That's it! Well done, lad!"

"John!" he shouted in pure panic and felt how he was pinned to the seat. He couldn't move, just stand there on his knees and live this through.

"Push Sherlock!" his husband exclaimed and he complied without realising. And then it burned, he heard himself shriek and cry out, begging for it to stop and Greg pressed his forehead to his temple, whispering calming words that he couldn't hear and John called from his backside.

"Ohgodithurts! Ow! Please, make it stop!" he cried as the contraction left him. He wished it had been longer, that he could bare down for just a minute more to get out of crowning, but he was stuck in a pause with the broadest part of the child's head between his legs. "Get him out!"

"You're doing great, love." John cried and pressed his lips to his spine. "It's almost over, just breath. C'mon!" He panted and cried, moaned and groaned as his hips ground against the head. The DI held him close, tried to comfort him the best he could and wiped the sweat from his face. Then the next contraction occurred and he screamed as the head finally broke free.

"Well done! Very well done!" his husband cried and wiped the little face with the towel. A chubby little nose, puffy cheeks and eyes and plump lips, John couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "He's beautiful Sherlock. I think he's got your hair!"

"The poor thing." Sherlock growled and bore down with the rest of the contraction, hissed as the baby turned.

"Just the shoulders then you're done." the doctor encouraged. "One more push, a strong one, and it'll be over!" Sherlock found a new grip around the headrest, nailed himself hard as he felt a new build up and he cried out as he pushed. He couldn't hear the cheers from the two men in the car over the pulsating pain and cries. He could feel the small body wiggle inside him and suddenly something popped free, an then another followed by beautiful relief and he fell against the seat with a loud yell.

John caught the small, slippery baby in his hands and brought him down to the towel between Sherlock's shaking legs. The child was pale purple, covered in fluids and fat and he wiped it quickly to stimulate the little baby that started to stir. He dried his tears on his shoulder and found himself smiling happily at the scene.

"You did it, Sherlock!" he giggled and sniffled. "Well done!" His baby wrinkled up its face and let out a small cry and John smiled even wider. "That's what I like to hear." he laughed and took off his gloves to touch it properly. Warm and incredibly soft, just like it should be.

Sherlock was still panting when he lifted his head from his arms and looked down to found an almost flat stomach, and between his knees he saw two little feet wriggling with sparse small toes. Greg was rubbing his sweaty neck and Sherlock blinked at him confusedly, couldn't quite believe what just happened.

"Are you alright, mate?" he asked with tears in his eyes and the detective took a deep shaky breath when John said something impossible.

"It's a girl, Sherlock." he giggled and he frowned.

"What?" he sighed and felt his fingers crack when he let go of the headrest.

"It's a little girl." John said again and the detective shook his head in disbelief.

"Are you sure." he asked and hated how stupid he sounded and both men laughed at him. "I need to lie down."

John could see him shaking and he looked up from the squirming baby.

"Just a few more second, Sherlock. Then I'll help you lie down so you can hold her, okay?" He reached down in his medical bag and found the gauze and scissors. He tied a thin strip of gauze around the cord close to her tummy and cut her loose from her weak father. "Come here, love." he whispered and lifted her down on the jumped lying on the floor before him. Ever so carefully he swaddled her in the soft fabric and she started to fall into slumber by the warmth and tight swaddle that reminded her of her first home which she missed and then John could return to his husband. "Okay, c'mon. Careful now." He and Greg helped Sherlock down on his back to the seat. Eyes foggy and every limb aching he leaned back to the door with the pillow and Greg's jacket behind him. "Good. There we go." He lifted the small bundle and placed it carefully on Sherlock's chest.

The detective tensed up as he saw the red little face sticking out of the jumper, dark curls adorning her head and small little hands curled up to fists. He stared at her, felt tears overflowing his eyes as he touched her little cheek and he whimpered happily, not even noticing what was happening around him or how John work between his shaking legs or when Greg disappeared out of the car.

"There you are." he croaked and cleared his sore throat. "Hello. You were in a real hurry, weren't you?" John laughed a pressed a loving kiss to his husbands temple.

"You did great, love." he whispered and reached out to touch the little hand. "Look at her, she's beautiful."

"She's got my hair." Sherlock croaked and brushed a finger over her wet curls. "That's gonna be hell." John giggled and pressed another kiss to his cheek.

"You're crying." he smiled and wiped the salty tears of his face. He'd never seen his husband cry before.

"Shut up." he smirked and sniffled. "So are you." He scooted the little bundle closer to his face until he could press his lips to her tiny forehead. "Jesus, you hurt." John giggled and leaned in to kiss his child as well and he rubbed her gently through the jumper.

"Yet she's so tiny." he murmured happily. "Look at her little hands. And that little nose." Sherlock was too tired to take it all in, he sighed loudly as he felt his stomach cramp up again and he started to panic.

"Oh god, what's happening now." he cried and swallowed. John placed a firm hand on his soft belly and rubbed his carefully.

"There's a towel there to catch it. Give some small pushes and it will be over." Sherlock closed his eyes for a second, resting his head to the pillow and huffed as he tried to get this over with. "Just like that." his husband cheered and mopped his soaked curls. "It's nearly over."

"It doesn't really hurt." he quaked and felt how every limb and muscle betrayed him. He was nothing more than a puddle of a vessel on the seat. Useless and gooey like a jellyfish and he blinked confusedly on the small child in his arm. A girl. A tiny little girl and not a boy that he always thought since his test turned positive. No, he had turned out to be a she. He unfolded the thick jumper around her and found himself counting her toes and fingers, but she hated him for it. The air in the car was getting cold and he bundled up her face and cried out in anger and Sherlock had never seen something so beautiful and fragile.

"Hey." he whispered and swaddled her in the jumper again, took her little hand in his and hushed her gently. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you." The baby nuzzled close to his chest and clicked her tongue as she worked her lips in a sucking motion. "John, I think she's hungry."

"I think it's more of a reflex at the moment." his husband answered and discarded the afterbirth in the plastic bag together with the soaked towels before covering Sherlock up. "Don't worry. She'll hold on for a bit longer." I think she's better of with some sleep right now." Sherlock hushed her again and caressed the features of her little face.

"There you go, you heard daddy. Make sure to take a good nap instead, okay?"

John was pulled out of doctor-mode by those words and stared at his small family on the ruined seat. His family. His husband and daughter and a sharp arrow of pride pierced him through the heart.

"Jesus christ." he mumbled under his breath and moved over to cup Sherlock's pale face. He placed a passionate kiss on his lips which the detective gladly accepted. "I'm a daddy."

"Don't be so daft, John." Sherlock smirked and took his hand. "What else would you be right now?"

"I'm not daft, just shocked." the doctor corrected and reached out to touch his daughter again, just to make sure that she was actually real. "You two had me real scared there for a moment. You did brilliant, love."

"I'll never grow tired of hearing you say that." Sherlock sighed and placed his heavy head upon his shoulder. Together day observed the sleeping child on his chest. It was the first time in the detective's long life that he'd held an infant. No one had ever aloud him to touch one before and he was amazed of how soft and warm they were, like a sedated cat except that this little creature cooed on his chest, whimpered her small breaths and squeaked when they cuddled her. She wasn't used to this kind of touches, in fact, she wasn't used to anything yet. Everything in the world was new to her and Sherlock smiled excitedly. This child wouldn't just experience the world, she would experience their world, his and John's. She would have adventures other children could only dream of. This little girl was the most interesting thing Sherlock had ever encountered.

"Let's call her Miranda." he murmured and John woke up from some sort of trance.

"What?"

"Miranda." Sherlock repeated. "It's latin for remarkable, marvellous, curious, astonishing. I think it fits her like a glove." John tasted the name and observed the girl as he did so.

"Miranda." he whispered and the child stirred in under Sherlock's big hands, cooed tiredly and for the first time, she opened her eyes. Blue. In fact, green-blue, just like her father. A whole scene of northern lights was dancing in those irises and John gasped when he saw the spots of purple and yellow shift and blend as she looked around.

"You're right." he smiled and saw new tears fall down the detective's cheeks as their daughter stared at them in wonder and curiosity. "It does fit her like a glove."

* * *

**There, tell me what you think! Reviews will alway make me happy!**


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